


Cell Decay

by MsMiaMimi (Mc_Mimi)



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Extremely Dubious Consent, First Meetings, M/M, Magical Bickering, Virgin Sacrifice Doesn't realize that's what he is
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2020-02-28 06:03:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18750508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mc_Mimi/pseuds/MsMiaMimi
Summary: In the end, Viren will look back at the incident that seemed to steal a year of his life and think it was a fever dream.  Perhaps none of it happened at all.  But then he'll glance at the scar on his leg and remember the cold yellow eyes and glittering blue hands...  It wasn't a dream.  He could never imagine such things for himself.





	1. Corona

**Author's Note:**

> *Note the rating and chapter count changes.

_“Hear me.”_

Viren covers his ears, but the niggling and frankly creepy sensation of a little monster tickling his palm makes his stomach turn.  He gives up and sits back on the cold stone of the upper dungeon.  He thinks of how Gren managed to stay cheery while held captive.  But he grimaces as the foul thing in his ear wiggles and twists to gets his attention.  It’s not easy to be optimistic.

_“Hear me.”_

“I hear you!”  Viren throws back his head and sighs.  He closes his eyes to the murky darkness and imagines himself free and lashing out at the council.  And his new friend across the mirror.  “I can’t help but hear you.  We’re alone.  And yours is the only voice I can make out at the bottom of this cesspit.  Isn’t that right?”

_“Then listen.”_

Viren imagines the Startouch elf is smirking behind the glass down in his hidden cells.  He wishes he could smash something.  But settles for a slamming a fist on his aching leg.   “I am.  If you have anything to say, it better be about my eventual escape.”

_“I’d like to sing you a song.”_

“Oh!  For the love of—“ Viren starts to curse the Elf but he goes silent mid-thought.  Aaravos does have a deep, rich speaking voice.  And now it quietly hums a gentle rhythm that instantly calms Viren’s nerves.  Soon he’s almost lulled to sleep, eyes shut and all the tension melting from his body.

_“Hmm.  You may open your eyes now.”_

Viren gripes, “I’m not some babe!  You don’t have to sing me lullabies.  He catches himself in a yawn, “And I wasn’t sleeping.  It’s just dark and boring in here.  And you... you are monotonous.”  He says all this while twisting to find a more comfortable position for his aching body.

_“Am I?”_

“Yes.  Boring.”  It’s easy to be snappy in the dark.  He turns over finally gives in to really sleeping, all while the Elf still hums in his ear.

* * *

 

 

_“See me.”_

Viren frowns some time later.  He can’t tell how much time has passed, but he’s well rested and warm despite the chill in the dungeon.  He can smell fresh bread from his first morning meal.  He sits upright and looks around the darkness before rolling his eyes.  “See this,” he makes a universal single-finger gesture and laughs at himself.  “Shame you can’t appreciate my humor.  He gets up and slowly starts to crawl towards the smell of food and the promise of water.  “Shame you aren’t here for real.  I’d like to slap that smug smile off your face.”

_“Try me.”_

Viren shivers, his entire being freezing over.  Was that a warm breath on his ear?  No, it was just his imagination of course.  Yes, of course, he tells himself.  Viren makes it to the door in time for it to open and light pours into the room. 

“Hey,” says Gren with an easy-going smile. “I see you’re getting around to breakfast.  I brought you some lunch.” 

“What are you doing here?”

“The soldiers found me in your creepy, even _more_ secret, secret dungeon.  Lucky me, huh?”

“Lucky you.”

“Still.  No hard feelings.  You weren’t a terrible captor.  So, I thought I’d repay the kindness with a good lunch.”  He stands there, cheery and bright-eyed.  Shaven and clean while Viren can already feel filth and grime sticking to skin and seeping into his fine clothes.  “You like raisins?”

“Get out.”

“Ah, no.  The General is on the way.  And we have word that the new and rightful King is en route as well.  And the baker’s lovely daughter told me that she heard that friend in a nearby village saw your son fight a dragon.”  He grins, “Boy that kid.  I guess he finally slew a dragon.”

Viren smiles, “Good.”

“Oh, not really,” says Gren with a sad look.  He kneels down to look Viren in the eye, “See all the knights are being ordered to arrest your children as co-conspirators.  Not really good news.”

Viren grinds his teeth, “Get out.  And take your molding bread with you.”

Gren pouts, “It’s not moldy.  It's fresh and delicious.  And this,” he says holding up his new plate.  “This is a meat pie, full of yummy bits and carrots.  I love carrots.  Like so much.” He puts his offering down in the doorway near the first tray and eyes where Viren is restricted by the chains.  “Well.  At least you can walk around a little.”

Viren bares his teeth, “Walk?  I was shot in the leg!”

“Well,” says Gren.  “Yes.  But it’s not all bad.”  He reaches in a sack on his belt and grins.  “One last surprise.”

“Please say it’s a knife.”

Gren rolls his eyes, “Dark magic users really are a morose bunch, aren’t they?  No.  It’s just this.  Look.”  He shows Viren his small nub of a candle and lights the flame.  “We all need a little light.  And I just thought, maybe you’ve lost yours.  But it’s not too late.”  He reaches out and gives Viren a friendly pat on the shoulder before backing out of the cell and shutting the door. 

The room echoes with the slam.  A soft yellow glow helps Viren to make out the outlines of the tiny, surprisingly damp space.  Viren pinches his nose and shuts his eyes tight.  His head is pounding and he’s starting to feel too warm.  Feverish.  Great, he thinks.  A possible infection on top of captivity and even more bad news.  He takes a deep breath remembers how he trained his often hot-headed daughter.  He smiles to himself, “There’s no synonym for Cinnamon.”

* * *

 

_“See me.”_

It’s been hours.  Gren delivered dinner and news that the council had plans to deal with him in the morning.  But in all the time in between, Aaravos had been surprisingly quiet.  Viren wonders why he’s back at it.  “See what?”  He hesitantly pulls the worm out of his ear and stares at it.  “Your mirror is in the depths.  If you lent me your power again, I would be strong enough to break these chains and escape.  Then I would see you.”

_“No.  Close your eyes.  And see me.”_

Viren frowns, and acting without thought he closes his eyes.  “This is futile.”

“ _This_ is my residence.”

Viren opens his eyes and gasps.  Darkness everywhere.  Pitch black, cold vacuum on his skin.  He’s nowhere and everywhere at once.  He looks to the only point of light, a shimmering corona around a dark diamond.  Slowly it gets closer and closer, while the sound of footsteps draws nearer.  Viren reaches out to the strange mass, “Are you… is that you?”

“The only escape I have from my prison.  I spoke to the Dragon King in this space when he sought my counsel.  It’s as far as my reach can go.”  He holds out one glittering hand, “But you can go farther.  You could reach me.  Now try.”

Viren stretches, but nothing happens.  “I can’t.  I can’t move.”

Aaravos looks him up and down, “You’re hardly trying.  Here you don’t have to be encumbered by the physics of the real world.  Let go of it, Viren.  And come see me.”  He vanishes and Viren is left in the cold and dark nothing.

“No!”  He tries.  Viren strains with every ounce of his being.  And just when he thinks it’s not enough, there’s a sudden and blinding light.

“Ah.  You made it.”

Viren stands toe to with the mystical creature.  Instinct tells him to cower.  But curiosity gets the better of him.  “How in the world is this possible?”  He looks around and notes that they’re on the other side of the mirror.  In the great library standing just before the fireplace.  He feels warm and at ease despite the fear of being far, far from home.  “Where are we?”

Aaravos rolls his eyes, “I told you before.  I don’t know.  My prison, my residence.  It’s all the same.  But I _am_ trapped.”  He steps forward with a sinister gleam in his eyes.  “And now, so are you.”


	2. Flare

Viren’s ears are ringing.  On impulse, he pulls free the worm and throws it on the ground and steps on it.  He puts distance between himself and Aaravos, then drains the worm’s magical energy and partially heals himself.  It’s not perfect, but he feels strong and stands ready to fight the Archmage of Xadia.  “What have you done!”

Aaravos looks unaffected and shrugs, “Ah, well.  My crimes are numerous.  But this is your own doing.  You brought yourself to this place.”

“Stop!  You are a liar!  You manipulated me!  You put me in that cell!”

“In time, terror will bend the other kingdoms until they’re on your side.  I gave you power.  And I can give you more.  _Stay by_  side and I will teach you to be the greatest mage your world has seen in a thousand years.  _Stay_ , and keep me company.”  He offers an open palm, “I promise you.  Here, I am not your enemy.”

If double-talk was an artform, thinks Viren.  He shakes his head and ignores the out-turned hand.  “Keep your promises to yourself.  I want to go back.”

“Back to your dungeon?  Or back to the throne of Katolis?”  He smirks and turns his back on Viren, already knowing the answer.  “Let’s see what the people want.”  He waves a hand the mirror grows cloudy and dark and then suddenly they see from far above. 

The vision zooms in closer and Viren stare with an open mouth.  “How?  Have you always been able to see so much on our side?”  He hates to think of being spied on without knowing.  Nevermind that it’s recently become a hobby for himself.

Aaravos smirks in answer, “Through the eyes of magic, I see all.  But hearing is another matter.”  Suddenly there’s a loud cawing and Aaravos points up to the back of his mirror.  “See how you helped me.”

Viren cautiously moves to take a look and sees a massive worm, much like the one he wore plastered to the back of the mirror.  He cringes and moves away, “Ewww.  When did you- how?”

“Later, young man.”  Aaravos ignores him and makes a fist, then waves his arm in a circle.  The mirror changes again. 

“A bird’s eye view?”

“Indeed.”  Aaravos looks impressed and steps close to the mirror.  “Now look.  And listen.”

_They both look through the mirror and see Gren and the Crow Master.  They stand together awkwardly at the balcony while the Crow master lets a bird fly._

_Gren clears his throat, “And uh, there’s a secret dungeon that he was hiding!  Even more secret than the baker’s Super Secret Anti-Prince Tart Pantry._

_“Wow,” says the Crow Master.  “You really do know everything about the castle.”_

_Gren blushes, “Yes, in fact, I was menaced and held captive there by Lord Viren for several days.”_

_The Crow Master gasps, “What!  I was menaced by Lord Viren too!  We have so much in common!”_

_Gren scratches his head and looks down at the floor.  “Yeah, we do.  Um.  Is there any chance you would like to share a meal with a former victim of Lord Viren?”_

_The Crow Master takes his hand, “I’d love to.”_

The image fades away and Viren rolls his eyes, “Puppy love.  Eyuck.”  He turns his back, “And they’re bonding over me?  I hardly menaced either of them enough to warrant a date night!”

Aaravos raises an eyebrow, “You aren’t making any sense.  But you do see what’s happening, don’t you?”

Viren sighs, “Their children are going to be incredibly stupid, naïve, and unnaturally cheery.”

Aaravos shakes his head, “Your world is moving on without you.  As if you never existed.”  He gestures back to the mirror, “There’s no alert of your absence.  Yet.  Which gives us time to prepare.”

“Prepare for what?”

“Escape, of course.  Alone, I cannot leave this place.  But together, we can change that world.”

“Escape?  Where are we to begin with?  And don’t say ‘I don’t know’, you know enough.”

Aaravos smirks, “I know how I arrived.  Banished in a vile moonmage’s portal through the Moon nexus.  In my time it could connect to countless realms and times and dimensions.  But this place was new to me.  And no one has since reconnected.  I was lost.  I am lost.  And have been alone for a thousand years.”

“Oh.  So, you **do** you know where we are!”

Aaravos throws up his hands in exasperation, “That’s not what I said!  I _don’t_ know.  And getting back will require very specific steps.  We will have to work together for this kind of magic.”

Viren thinks back to having to spill his own blood, the one magic he did not condone using.  “What exactly do you want from me?”

Aaravos smiles, and if he thinks it’s not creepy, he’s very wrong.  He moves to the door in the library and opens it, “Follow me.”

Viren holds his ground, “No.  That’s enough, Elf.  I’m not going to tolerate being dragged around by the likes of you!  Send me back this instant!”

Aaravos gives him an insincere pout, “If only.  However, to do so will require some work from both of us.  And the ingredients aren’t in this library.” He swings the door wide open, “Come with me if you…”

Viren throws up his hand, “Yes, fine!”  He marches forward and stands in the doorway to take in a strangely normal hall.  He turns on the mage, “Don’t think about laying some trap for me.  If I have to, I’ll use dark magic on you, and drain you like a little worm.”

Aaravos shoves Viren with a heavy hand.  He steps in close enough to whisper in Viren’s ear, “You’ll find I’m a lot a sturdier than some magical insect, my lord.”  He glares darkly before moving away with another fake smile on his face, “I only wish to save us both.  But we must be quick about it.  Things will go better if you trust me.”  He puts his back to Viren, unafraid of the threat and leads them down the hall into a network of corridors.  He opens a great iron door and bows, “In here.”

Viren slowed his paced to take in his surroundings, and hesitates at the doorway, “This looks like a goal cell.”

Aaravos waves a hand and the metal of the door writhes and changes, vines and icons appearing.  “This is far too ornamental for such a thing.  This place was built by moon elves.  And they were ever so obsessed with the appearances of things.  Most things here are quite beautiful, some horrifying.  But everything is basically harmless.”

“Useless, you mean.  If you haven’t found a way home in a thousand years.”  He finally steps into the room that’s simply a bedroom.  “What is this?”

Aaravos raises a brow and points a slender finger at the obvious, “That is what we used to call a ‘bed’.  You may rest here for now.  I’m sure you’re quite tired after what you’ve been through.”  He turns around, leaving the door open.

“Aaravos!”  Viren calls after the elf, but he doesn’t answer.  He sticks his head out the door and sees no sign of the mage up or down the hall.  “Aaravos!”

No answer.  No supervision.  Viren weighs the pros and cons of trying his luck.  He could go snooping around on his own or he could actually try to get some sleep.  And maybe eat something.  But he’s got a terrible feeling that Aaravos is up to something sinister.  He shakes his head and sighs before turning around.  He finds Aaravos sitting on the bed smiling like the cat that’s got the cream.

“Well done.”

“Excuse me?”

“I will stay with you.  And help you heal.”  He gestures to Viren’s leg without explaining anything.  “And then we can begin the important work of returning home.  I am patient.  But I am anxious to leave this place.  Healing you will help expedite matters.”  He gets up and motions for Viren to take his spot.  “Lie down and I’ll help you get more comfortable.”

“I rather stand.”

Aaravos sighs, “I’ll only say this once more.  Those that can’t be motivated with friendship…”

“Yes, yes.  I know.”  Viren handwaves at the attempt to intimidate.  “But I’m not too eager to be under your uh,” he takes a good look at the elf’s hands, at the starlight and cool blue skin.  “You’ll have to forgive me for my prejudice.  Most healers have icy hands, I can only imagine.”

Aaravos barks out a laugh and gives him a toothy grin, “Oh yes, that was common in my time.  My hands are strange to look at from your perspective.  But I assure you, starlight is lifegiving and quite warm.”

Viren paces in front of the bed wishing the mage would give up and leave him be.  “I’m fine.”  He stomps his foot for emphasis, but a dull pain runs up his thigh.  He tries not to flinch and repeats, “I’m perfectly fine.  Your attention is not required.  I’ll accept the time to rest though if you would just leave me in peace.”

“I will stay with you,” says Aaravos again, his voice dreamy and low while his eyes stare down at Viren’s thigh. 

Viren starts to feel self-conscious.  “You’re not getting your four-fingered hands on me, Elf.”

Aaravos looks up him, his dark eyes limpid and glittering like a child about to commit mischief.  And get away with it.  “Oh, but I must insist.  Come closer, Lord Viren.  I promise you won’t regret opening yourself to the experience.”

Viren imagines his former wife is somewhere laughing in the distance.  She once said the only creatures suited for dark magic users was lowborn degenerates willing to debase themselves under the pressure of evil forces.  Or something to that effect.  She may have had rambling aspirations as a writer, but he remembers the laugh.  So much like his daughters, but full of venom and always directed at him.  Degenerate.  Aaravos is hardly lowborn. He is beautiful, thinks Viren without hesitation.  He is otherworldly and enchanting to look at.  And it should be an interdimensional criminal offense to sit like that, and talk that, and look like that.  Degenerate indeed.

Of course, this is all in Viren’s head.  His very lonely, lonely head.  Aaravos seems to tire of dealing with indecision and gets up and moves quietly to Viren’s side.  “Don’t worry,” he whispers.  “I’ll be gentle.”

Viren legs feel like jelly, never mind the pain.  What pain?  “I’m fine.  Really.”

“Hardly.  You’re gaping with your jaw on the floor.  Something I said?”  He smirks, and Viren wonders if there was an ancient elf magicks school with classes for Smug One-Liners.

Suddenly the Aaravos is less attractive.  “Yes, something you said.  You dim….”  Viren catches himself and sighs.  “I don’t think I have time for this.  I’m hungry, Elf.  Can you bring me something to eat while I tend to myself?”  He hopes Aaravos will simply nod and leave.  But the universe simply can’t have that.

Aaravos waves a hand and a bowl of fruit appears on the bed.  “Lie down, and I’ll feed you grapes.”

“Now hold on,” starts Viren, while being pushed backed and onto the bed.  He stares up for a while before giving an anguished cry.  “Wait a minute!”

Aaravos hovers over him, one arm outstretched and pinning Viren with strong, solid hand while the other flips up his robes and bares his legs.  “Not so long now.”

“I beg your pardon?”  Viren feels dizzy and anxious, old feelings he thought he retired after his marriage collapsed stirring up again under the brazen hands.  “Get off!  Get off of me!”

Aaravos ignores him, bows his head and closes his eyes.  “Mend now.”

There’s a soft warm glow between his fingers and suddenly all the pain is gone.  Not just the arrow wound, but years of aches and arthritis, and black magic wariness.  All gone with a single press to his clothed thigh.  Viren stares at himself rather stupidly, before speaking.  “Oh.  It stopped.”

Aaravos slowly pulls away and gives Viren a small bow, “I live to serve. As I’ve said.”

Viren wonders about the truth in that statement, “The Dragon King kept you close…”

“As I said.  For council.”

“For fear of you.”  He looks at Aaravos to gauge his reaction.  “You weren’t erased for nothing.  You were a threat to Xadia.”

Aaravos has the audacity to yawn and stretches his long body.  He slumps forward dramatically and collapses beside Viren on the bed.  “My, but that took a lot out of me.  So many spells in one day.  I’m quite tired.”

“You’re trying to avoid the subject.  And get off my arm!”  He shoves the handsome schemer to the side and is rewarded with a small grin.  “Stop trying to be cute about it!  You _are_ something dangerous and I will get to the bottom of this!”

Aaravos narrows his eyes at Viren’s words.  “The bottom?”

Viren stutters, “Ho... wa... You know what I mean!”  He tries to get up, Aaravos grabs him by the collar and pulls with enough force to bring him back down.  Viren squirms while the elf climbs over him, throwing one leg over and hovering while his hair curtains them both.  Viren swallows a sudden lump in his throat, “You’re just trying to unmoor me.”

“You’re just full of interesting words.  I miss this.  Speaking.”  He leans in closer to whisper in Viren’s ear, “It has been so long.  Do keep talking, young man.”

“I’m no young man!  I’m… middle age.  Or thereabout.  Hardly the type to start a dalliance with ethereal beings that kidnap me!”

Aaravos pouts, bringing their faces closer.  Viren can feel the warm breath on his lips and it’s enough to make him freeze.  Aaravos pushes further but doesn’t quite touch him.  “Dalliance?  What does that word mean?  Is it new?  You say so many new things.  Here.  Teach me.” 

He presses to lips Viren’s and suddenly everything goes dark.  Viren feels warmth, and pressure against his whole body, it’s like being in an oven, and then the strange sensation of being completely bare.  No, worse than that, he feels open.  Vulnerable.  And he’s powerless to do more than accept the intrusion.  It’s all over and done within a few heartbeats.

Viren blinks open his eyes, “What?  What?  What was that?”

Aaravos settles to the side of Viren, “A learning experience.”


	3. Transition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooo, season 3! I’ve decided this all takes place in along with the show, with Viren having little memory of it when wakes up in the cell.

“Do you ever wonder at the lives of weaker creatures?”  The smug elf has the audacity to give Viren a long, pitying look.  He combs his fingers in Viren’s hair and comes close again, “Do you ever look down at the crawling insects building their fortresses of dirt and wonder, ‘What if I taught them to make bricks?  What if I gave them fire?’  This is my crime.”  He grins wide, but there’s a moment… small, and perhaps manufactured, but the elf looks genuinely sad. “This is my great crime in the eyes of my former masters.”

Viren is older and wiser than some novice mage, but curiosity is still a ridiculously strong motivator for a large percentage of his biggest mistakes.  He accepts this about himself.  And assumes he’s making a mistake, allowing the warmth of those four-fingered hands to seep deep into his bones and give him a strange comfort he hasn’t allowed himself to have in over a decade.  He settles in the arms of Aaravos, “You mean dark magic?  You gave…”

“The spells. The relics.  The knowledge to come out of the darkness and bring people safety and comfort.  The things we elves took for granted in our own settlements.  But it used the lifeforce of things unbothered by complex thought, prey animals, lesser beings.  Beautiful but wholly unremarkable.  I gave your ancestors the words and practices to protect themselves.  And for that, I was chained.”

Viren is sure there’s something else to the sad story.  Some convenient lie of omission that will later bite him in ass.  But for now, a part of him is moved.  “You… were trying to protect humans?”

“I _adore_ humans.”  Aaravos gives him a wide smile, like a predator about to take his first bite.  It’s so unnerving, Viren flinches before he can control himself.  The elf laughs, “No really.  I do.  Look at you. No arcanum.  No innate connection or knowledge of the rest of universe, and yet.  You are perfectly made.  And so very keen on making _copies_ of yourselves.  You have a singular drive that motivates your every action.”  He pokes Viren on the side and laughs when he’s awarded another flinch.  “See?  You’re scared aren’t you, but here you are.  Waiting for another kiss.  I’m not even the kind of elf that can breed, you understand.  But how would you know?  Even back then your people were intensely curious about the mechanics...”

“Are you saying… no- hey!”  Viren blushes, “You cad!  That’s not all there is to humanity.  We’re not all just waiting for strange sex or something.”  The word is out of his mouth before he can think better of it.  He slaps himself for it, “I walked right into whatever you're going to do me, didn’t I?”

“We are friends.”

“Oh, for the love of…”

“And lovemaking is common between friends.  And I have gone _so_ long without either.”

Viren sighs.  “I see.  And here I am.  Very available right?  And a mage to boot.”

“Right.”

“Bingo.”

“Bingo?”

“It’s a nonsense word my daughter made up.  It means, oh never mind.  It doesn’t matter, because you’re wrong.”  It takes some effort, but he rights himself and climbs up and out of the bed.  “I’m going home.  I’m going to save my people.  I’m going to lead them into the future.  If you want to continue watching the ants play, then gave _me_ the fire.  But do not entertain this thought that I’ll be a warm body for you to use.”

Aaravos sits up and gives Viren a once-over from head to foot and back again.  Then his face cracks and he falls back with a full-body laugh.

Viren is sure he’s red all over.  He’s glad they’re alone, because he would have killed any and everything in earshot of his most recent humiliation.  “Is that necessary?”

Aaravos hiccoughs and gasps while he tries to catch his breath, rolling around to his back before climbing up to the head of the bed.  “Of all the things I thought I’d hear today. Are you telling me, my chosen vessel is chaste and pure?  Saving yourself for marriage perhaps?  Do your people still do that?”

Viren rolls his eyes, “I’m hardly some virgin bride.  I’m an old man.”

“Not up to it, then.”  Aaravos sighs, “I should have chosen the girl.”

Viren puts aside his pride to be well and truly angry.  He resists trying to pull all the life out Aaravos right then and bares his teeth.  “Do not talk about my children.  That’s where I draw the line, elf.”

Aaravos ignores him, “The beautiful girl looked into the mirror all the time.  And what I saw was so promising.  Well done.  I applaud your teaching.”

“Shut up,” Viren raises his hand.  “I could crush the life out of you and find my own way home.  I don’t need you.”

“Perhaps,” says Aaravos, completely unbothered by the latest threat.  He reclines on the headboard, hands behind his head.  “But I have spent a thousand years in this prison, with even greater knowledge and power than you could ever possess. And yet here I am, still trapped.  Though I do have one idea, it’s reliant on a certain spell.  Try as I might, it could not be done alone.”

Viren steps back, worried now that he might be crushed.  “You want me as an amplifier?”

“I want you on this bed.”

A chill goes up Viren’s spine, not sure if he’s still being propositioned for sex or as an ingredient for a spell.  He doesn’t like either prospect.  “No.”  He says simply and walks over to the door.  “Not happening.”  He tries opening the door, but it slams shut every time he tries.  He gives up on it and turns back to the smug bastard on the bed.  “Still not happening. And if you come anywhere near me…”

Aaravos covers his face and laughs again.  “Are you serious?”  He flips his hair over his shoulder, “Are you suggesting that _I_ would force anyone to lie with me?  Have you _seen_ me?”

Viren looks down at his feet, “It doesn’t matter what you look like, no still means no.”  He’s sure he learned that as a young man.  He was taught more about respecting women by Harrow’s mother than his own but got the message and hopefully passed it on to his lunkheaded son.  The same should apply to men.  Even old men with creaky knees and graying hair.

Aaravos rolls his eyes, “Clearly I should have gone with the girl.  I’m sure she would have been way more open-minded.  And flexible.”  Aaravos smirks.  “And maybe even the pretty soldier boy…”

Viren doesn’t think before he acts and in the next moment, the bed is on fire.  The spell he uses spends his own life and the force of it makes him stumble and fall to his knees.  But Aaravos crossed the line, he thinks.  And he deserved to go up in smoke. 

But the room is filled smoke, not screaming.  Viren passes out.  He hears laughter and hopes it’s just his imagination.

 

* * *

 

When Viren wakes, the room is empty and blank, no longer a well-appointed illusion of comfort.  It’s as if the room never was.  There’s not even an exit anymore.  Viren looks back to where there should be a door and finds nothing but a smooth blank wall.  “Great.”   

“ _Interesting_ ,” says Aaravos.  His voice rings in Viren’s ear, but he’s nowhere to be seen.  “ _I was not expecting an all-out attack over mere words.”_

“You underestimated me.”

_“I underestimated your… hm, what would one call it?  Pride as a father?  You must really love your children.”_

“Of course, I love my children!  Whatever else my wife thought of me, I do!”  He feels like she’s nearby accusing him of abuse again.  Chastising him for teaching his children how to defend themselves.  How to think and fight in world at war impossibly powerful creatures.  “And you cannot…”

“I won’t,” says the voice quietly.  Then Aaravos appears in the center of the room, but more like a ghost.  He bows his head, “I will never cross that line again.  I understand better now.  Not even in jest.  You have my promise.”

A solid hand comes out of nowhere and pats Viren on the head.  He recoils only to bump into the solid body of a ridiculously tall Startouch elf.  “You!”

“Yes.  Who else would I be?”  He grins while the white room fades away and the bedroom returns to normal.  “Moonmage sanctuaries are well hidden in other worlds and dimensions.  Disrupting it with violence has this effect.”

“I see.”  Viren puts a few feet between them and stares at the elf, “And you’ve been alone with all this for so long.  It’s a great deal of magical power.  Couldn’t you use it to send yourself home?”

Aaravos rolls his eyes.  “Of course.  I did exactly that.”

“You know what I mean.”

Aaravos opens the door and leans on the frame, “You won’t sleep with me.  You won’t entertain me.  And you tried to set me on fire.  I think we could use a break.  Dinner?”

“Are you asking me out?”

“Out the door, yes.”

“No, I mean… like a date… no never mind.”

“Date?”  Aaravos waves a hand a notebook appears.  He marks it with a magical gesture, “Another new word.”

“Stop that.”

“After you, friend.”

“We are not friends.  We are… I don’t know.  Cohorts.”

“Oh my!  How exciting.  Cohorts!”  He grabs Viren by the hand and drags him out the door, nearly skipping down the hall with his excitement.  “What an interesting change in our relationship status.  I wish we could announce it to the world.”

“Remember when you were a quiet reflection?  I miss that.”

 

* * *

 

There is a small tour before dinner.  Aaravos leads on while periodically opening doors and giving commentary.  “The Observatory.  Not to be confused with Examining room.  Different functions.” 

Viren sighs after every bad joke, pun, and the occasional scream.  (There are several rooms populated with terrifying monsters and visions.)  Aaravos slams the door on one of the horrific sights while clutching his chest.  “ONE THOUSAND YEARS OF THIS NONSENSE!  DAMN LUNATICS!”

Viren can’t help cracking a smile, “If it’s just an illusion and you know it’s illusion, then why are you still so bothered by it?”

Aaravos cracks open the door of the scary room and a few black eyeballs roll out on to the floor and blink up at them.  Aaravos sighs, “Because the spell to cast this illusion uses your own mind to craft.  It’s had a long time to get to know how to creep me out.  And it’s gotten very good at it.”

Viren laughs and it feels like the first bit of relief he’s had in ages.  He’s so happy about this kink in the elf’s nonchalant armor.  “Well noted.  You’re especially bothered by…”

“Don’t speak it!  I have my lines not to cross, agreed?”  He doesn’t wait for Viren’s answer and instead takes him by the hand again.  “And finally, finally.  The dinner table.”

They come into a beautiful open courtyard.  Birds sing, a pair of suns are setting and in the center of beautiful well-kept hedges and flower beds, is a small table covered in food.  The closer they get, the better it smells.  Viren raises a brow.  “Is this real food?”

Aaravos pauses for a moment, before shaking his head.  “I find it best not to think about it.  Here.  Eat.”  He pulls a chair out and waits for Viren to sit before taking the other seat.  He plates generous portions of cooked meat and vegetables and passes it to Viren like a proper host.  “I like the bird.  Whatever it is, it’s a fine imitation.” 

“Is there anything like raw ingredients here?”

“Ingredients?”

“Yes, for cooking.”  He takes a careful bite of the maybe-bird.

“Aaravos sighs and leans forward on the table, “There was a time, I tried gardening.  Then farming.  And a good spell where I tried hunting.  And I came to the same conclusion every time.”

Viren gives his meal a suspicious, “And what’s that?”

“I’m a terrible cook.”

Viren allows himself to laugh.  It might be the first time he’s heard the whole truth from the elf.  “Honestly?”

Aaravos proceeds to take a large bite out of his maybe-bird.  “Perhaps I don’t look it anymore, but I am a what your people would call ‘privileged’.  He smiles, “There’s a word for you to write down, my student.”

Viren continues, “I know what privileged means.”

“Ah.  Well in my time, I was provided for and preparing my own meals was not a necessary skill.  And I’m afraid it’s one of the few things I never master.  Perhaps the only thing.”

“Who are you anyway?”

Aaravos frowns, “Have I not already said?  Aaravos.”

“The legendary Archmage of Xadia.  I know that much, but the official record of you is shallow.  All I could piece together before your name started vanishing, was that you mastered every arcanum.”

“Master is not the right term.  I didn’t learn them, I knew them.”

“And to know a thing, we must first learn it.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No, human.  But I do like the effort you’re making to understand.  And I appreciate you coming to dine with me.  We have such a short time to work with.  And as I said, I’m eager to leave this place.”

“But first,” says Viren while trying a strangely purple root that looks like a carrot but tastes like cauliflower.  He makes a face and but his fork down, “You want me to entertain you.”

“No offense, but you look a mess.”  The abrupt change of subject makes Viren’s stomach flip.  He knows he’s a sight after using dark magic.  Aaravos continues, “The real you, under the veneer.  It’s so unpleasant.”  He waves his hand several strange little moths fly to the table.  “You should take better care before trying to set a potential bedmate on fire.”

Viren takes the offered gift and stares down at his hand, “I try not to think of it.  I suppose it frightened Harrow, seeing I would change with the use of any powerful spell.”  He narrows his eyes, “As the one to give us this power, do you know why that is?  Why it drains and changes the user too?”

Aaravos draws a rune in the air and gently pushes at the air until ornate mirror appears before Viren.  He gets a good look at himself and see’s he’s back to normal.  For the most part.  Aaravos smiles, “It is nothing to be ashamed of.  I am not like other elves, rare as I am, born whole in a way the others can’t comprehend.”  He holds up one glimmering hand, “I was born knowing the truth of the cosmos, the stars and the worlds that circle them.  You would think I’d be more appreciated for having such far-reaching sight.”

Viren ignores the entire spiel, “Are you going to answer the question?”

Aaravos pouts, “But I am.  This small physical change is just what happens you mortal creatures burn your own starlight.  Stars burn bright for eons then when exhausted, they gently fade.  But only after giving so much life!  You understand, my student?  For the greater good, you must light the way for your people.  And you have to be willing to pay any price to do it.”

Viren frowns, “I guess that makes sense.”  He doesn’t believe a word of it.  One of his daughter’s hobbies is to stare at the sky in search of changes and she’s observed exploding starlight.  Gently fading, he thinks, is not how stars die.  “I don’t care what it takes.  I want all the power I can muster.”

“And you will have it.”

“And what do you really want in return for all this teaching?”

“Why, freedom of course.  I want to see my precious humans again.  I want to see my world.  I want to go home.”  He reaches out across the table and takes Viren by the hand.  “I want to feel again!”

Viren snatches it away, “You’re not feeling me.  Not here and not back home.”

“But the goal is one and the same.”  Aaravos bows his head large tomb appears on the table, displacing the food in the center.  “You need convincing.  Comfort and knowledge.  I can give you that, but we must act quickly.  I haven’t the time to seduce you properly.  Not when you’re so contrary for the sake of being contrary.”

“I am not!  Whatever that means. And just what does bedding me have to do with getting out of here!”

“A sacrifice of life, well potential life.”

“Ew,” says Viren with some understanding.  “And your one-handed efforts have gone to no avail.”

Aaravos rolls his eyes gestures rudely, “One-handed, two-handed.  My kind does not birth like other elves with song and loving stones or poetry.  I need more, and alone I cannot produce the spark of life.”

“You poor barren thing,” says Viren in a pitying tone.  “You’re all dried up.”

“Hardly!”  Aaravos flips his hair, “My needs are simply not met.  I need you, High Mage.  We have to strengthen our connection.”  He reaches out again, this time leaving his hands palms up on top of the book.  “Help me.  And together we will do great things.”

“Well. You are right about one thing,” Viren strokes his beard and thoughtfully picks at the elf.  “I am curious about the mechanics.”

Aaravos smirks perhaps thinking he’s won this sparring match.  “You acquiesce?”

“You are strange and primal animals, after all.”  He looks down his nose at Aaravos and watches the high mage darken.  He smiles, “The Dragons are great beasts so close to the natural world, you are made in their image.  Taught their magic and languages too, I believe.”

“That is correct… to an extent.”

“Yes, there’s nothing closer to the Dragons than their beloved elves.  I’ve dissected Skywing elves with and without wings.  The essence of Moonshadow elves is easily manipulated, even if you don’t cut their hearts out.  Earthblood elf antler seems to grow even when they’re long dead.  But I’ve never put much thought into how such long-lived creatures propagate themselves.  And as you say, you are older than most.  Perhaps I was hasty in my assumption.  What do you really need a hand with?  Tuning your lute or carving a special rock…”

Aaravos bares his teeth, “I need you to bend over the table.”  He licks his lips, “It’s not as though I haven’t already tasted every inch of you.”

Viren shutters, “That worm.”

“An amplifier.  My voice.  My tongue.”

Viren involuntary slaps himself on the ear, “Ew.  You were in my head…”

“And elsewhere.”

“Ew!”  Viren slams his fist on the table, “That’s disgusting.”

“So is bragging about dissection at the dinner table, but you did it anyway.”  Aaravaos smirks.  “But fortunately I’m a hard man to intimidate.  If you still need time to acclimate, then so be it.  But don’t think anything you say will sway me.  Prepare yourself, High Mage.  I will have you.  You are mine.”

Viren sputters, blinded by the elf’s surety.  “Is that so?”

“As I said before.”  He gets up towers over Viren.  “Shall I have to motivate you with fear, when I could I offer you such pleasure?”  He walks around the table and kneels.  “I rather it did not come to such an unpleasant outcome.  Just as I’m sure you didn’t want to dissect my cousins.  But one does what one must, for progress.”

“Here I was hoping you be put off the whole idea, knowing my crimes.”

“I told you, my crimes are numerous.”  He blows a tuff hair, “I tire of repeating myself.”  He boldly reaches out and rubs Viren through his pants.  “And I tire of your words.  I will have you.  And you will have me.  Is this understood?”  He presses down and Viren’s blood rushes.

“Yes,” he says breathlessly.  He reaches out and runs fingers through long silky hair.  “But not without some condition.  I am not… I have not lain with another male.  Let alone some walking fossil.  So…”

“The mechanics really are lost on you.  Here, let me teach you.”


	4. Core

There was a night some fifteen years ago when both of his children fell terribly ill.  The whole castle was sickened, but children and the elderly were most notably afflicted.  Prince Harrow asked Viren to do anything to find a cure. And he did. It was too late for the King.  But his children were revived. 

His wife didn’t see it that way.  It was the first time Viren utilized life-giving spells.  Yes, the exchange came at a heavy price, but it was worth it.  Soren had come close to succumbing. His little face had turned blue and he was cold to the touch.  Claudia, still just a hand baby, her little heart had slowed down to frightful pace. She didn’t cry.  She didn’t move in her crib. Viren did what was necessary that night. He took his wife’s prized Skyshine Dove.  It was a beautiful, four-winged creature he captured himself and gave to her for a wedding present. He stole the life of a uselessly beautiful bird and repaired his beloved children.

But his wife did not see it that way.  She called the act an abomination and told him he was horrid for belying the natural order.  She looked at him with suspicion from thereon. She believed her children changed from being touched with dark magic.  She was so small-minded. So prejudice. So afraid of what she simply didn’t understand. Perhaps he was still hurt by her words, but he then sent for an entire flock, captured hundreds of the birds and burned them away for a spell to revive the castle and the Katolis countryside.

And while Soren did grow to have no skill with magic, he was strong.  And Claudia became his prodigious acolyte, the star of his night sky. He loves his children more than anything.  But he knows that great power, true power, requires a strong will and the commitment to sacrifice.

“You seem hesitant,” says Aaravos while reaching out.

Viren gets up and avoids him, leaving the table and putting some space between himself and the elf, “I am.  As I said.”

“And this tension won’t work for me.  We’ll have to relax you. Here,” he holds out his hand.  “Let me bathe you.”

Viren’s face twist, “You’re not going to lick me, are you?”

“Not yet,” smirks the elf.  “Come to the Moonshadow bathhouse.  It is the one thing I never tire of in this place.  It will help.” He pulls Viren closer and whispers, “I’ll do your back and you’ll do mine.”

“Subtle,” says Viren while rolling his eyes.  He doesn’t take the offered hand, but he does follow.

“I’m nothing if not subtle.”

* * *

The Moonshadow baths appear to be another garden.  Steam rolls up from the ground matted with thick grass.  There are several pools of crystal-clear water that reflect the night’s sky.  Viren looks up, “Is this sight genuine? Or is this place another room that turns into white space?”

Aaravos chuckles while removing his cloak, “Why?  Are you planning to set me ablaze again?”

“Not at the moment.”

Aaravos laughs harder, “Then, for now, this is real.  That is the way of the things here. If you can see it and touch it, it is so.  You understand?”

“No.  But I rather not sit through any more lectures about moon magic.”

Aaravos narrows his eyes, “No.  Of course. Why put any effort into understanding?  It’s beyond you. Humans can’t touch real magic. They can’t fathom it.”  He turns his back to Viren, his shoulders squared, “I failed as a teacher then.  And settled for the next best thing. The application of tools. Your kind can’t properly understand, but they can categorize and memorize.”

Viren sighs, “I see.  Dark magic is actually a dunce cap.  We’re just so inferior, are we?”

“No!”   Aaravos shocks Viren and turns around, pointing his finger, “You  _ never _ were!  You aren’t now!  The gifts are all right there, waiting for you!  Waiting for anyone to  _ know _ them!  But you don’t see past your own ambitions and limitations and weaknesses!”  He reels himself in, shocked with his own response. “My apologies. It’s not you.  You do remind me so of the first one. The human mage who had so much potential. He squandered it and all was lost.  I was lost.” He looks down at his hands, “Captured for aiding him. Left here to rot all this time. The only words spoken to me were from the Great King.  And he has been silent.”

Viren wonders if he should say something.  Let the elf know that it was his humble and inferior self that killed Thunder.  But Aaravos has a different energy, a quiet unsteadiness. He’s been alone for a long time and perhaps hearing that his captor was done in by his new meal ticket will be too much handle.

Aaravos shakes his head, hair fluttering.  “You’re distracting me from the business at hand.  Now strip.”

Viren crosses his arms, “No.  I can wash my own backside.” He turns his back, “I’ll just wait for you to finish up here.”

“Do you think yourself ugly?”

Viren freezes.  “Why would that matter.  There’s no one else here.”

“No.  But I apologize.”  He startles Viren with a hand to his shoulder and turns him around.  He looks regretful, “I did call attention to it earlier and seeing as deeply as I do, it’s hard to ignore your true visage.  But I gave you the gift. I must revel in it as well. Come Viren. You’re not just a greying specter that’s rotting from the inside out.  You are potential. And that is beautiful.”

Viren scoffs and looks down at his own hands, “No it’s not.”  He cracks his knuckles before crossing his arms again, “You really are desperate.”

“There isn’t time for this.”  Aaravos waves his hand and candles of various heights appear around one of the pools.  He clicks his tongue, “No time at all.” 

He doesn’t bother with undressing like a normal creature, because why would he?  Viren rolls his eyes but tracks the elf’s movement as his skin shimmers through vanishing fragments of his clothes.  Aaravos steps into the pool with his back to and Viren gestures for Viren to follow. Viren scoffs, “No thank you.” He eyes another pool.  “I’ll uh… I’ll use that one.”

There’s a strange burst of light and suddenly the other pools erupt, turning into bubbling cauldrons, leaving only the one with candles unbothered.  Aaravos has the temerity to turn his head and look innocent, “Come in, High Mage. The water here is very pleasant.” He turns and gives Viren a proper view, his bare chest looks like a patch cut out of the night sky. 

Viren tilts his head, “That star…”

“Curious?  Come closer and I’ll show you a magnificent wonder.”

“Why?  Is your ah, little horn starry too?”

Aaravos arches his back, “I have no  _ little _ horns,” he says while tilting his magnificently appointed head. 

He has a point, thinks Viren.  And that’s terrifying. “You can’t be serious?  I’m not…”

Aaravos watches as the candle closest to Viren burns down.  “No time to hesitate my dear. Come here and let me see you.  And I will show you wonder and grace unparalleled.”

“That’s pretty high talk,” says Viren nervously.  “And this being my first experience, what on earth would I compare it to?”

Aaravos tips his head and whispers, “Surely you did make love to this oft-spoken of wife?  Or… oh my. Have you considered that lovely sprites aren’t yours?”

“Out of line.”

Aaravos raises his hands, “I said nothing!  It’s merely a question. Given your shyness.  I’m rethinking. Just how much have things changed over there for humans.  It was easier to dazzle your ancestors. I merely flipped my hair and there one would go, scrambling to find ways to please me.  And one special one…” He smiles softly to himself, “My dearest friend. He had a way of climbing trees…” Aaravos laughs at the memory.  “And finding the sweetest fruit. I never would have wanted it for myself.”

Viren hates the thought of being one-upped by some fossil he’s never met.  “Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop acting like that.  You’re not the kind of creature that can genuinely be sad,” he says even while stripping out of his tunic.  Then boots and pants. He wades into the water but keeps an arm’s length from the elf. “I know what you’re doing, and it’s not necessary.  I don’t have to sympathize with you. I just want to go home.”

“And then what?”

“And then… free my people.”

“How?”

“By stopping the forces of Xadia.  Once and for all.”

Aaravos steps closer, “And to do that.  We will go into battle.”

“Yes.”

“And to do that, we must first leave this place.”

“…okay.”

“And to do that, I must have you.”

“…umhm.”  Viren stares at the water and realizes too late his mistake.  He can see clearly the dark mass between the elf’s legs. Braggart bastard, he thinks.  “Ah. Not a little horn.” 

Aaravos, “No.  I am very proportional and well-formed.”  He gestures to his head and Viren realizes for the first time that the elf is at least seven feet tall with the horns.  On his head. Aaravos grins, “Nothing small about me.”

Viren hates to think that he’s blushing again.  But the clear water reflects him perfectly. He hasn’t seen himself so blustered in nearly twenty years.  He slaps the water and hopes to erase the truth of it. “I’m not impressed.”

“My, how indomitable you are.  Shall I endeavor to impress you?”

“No!”  Viren catches himself, “I mean.  Not necessary. There is… I suppose we can approach this clinically.  Like breeding endangered turtles.”

Aaravos looks completely lost and his little book appears, “You’ll have to thoroughly explain, I’m afraid.”

Viren laughs, “Ceramic Shell turtles.  They were going extinct. We only had a handful left and they were reluctant to breed naturally, so we tasked some farmers to see to it.  Um… manually.”

Aaravos flips a page, “And these turtles were important?”

“Well, yes.  In a way. I suppose.”

“And you think I should upend you and go about the matter,  _ clinically _ ?”  Aaravos frowns, “Clinically.  Is this pertaining to medicine?”  He holds up his hands they give off a warm glow, “I could continuously heal you to keep you from feeling discomfort.  But I doubt you’d derive much pleasure from it.”

Viren backs himself to the rim of the tub, “No, that’s not what I meant.  I think the gap in understanding here is too wide for the both us. How about we get some rest and reconvene to think of new solutions in the morning?”

Aaravos lays a heavy hand on Viren’s shoulder.  “Or we can explore another option. Here. Let me make you more comfortable.  He hand slides down Viren’s chest to his waist, skipping over his navel before taking a firm grasp of Viren’s member.  “Do you object?”

“Yes!” Yelps Viren.  That may have tickled before the surprising sensation of someone else’s hand on his long-ignored sex.  It’s a shock that he’s not prepared to defend against or encourage to stop.

Aaravos loosens his grasp but doesn’t back away, “Hm.  Are you certain?” He gives Viren a gentle tug, a twist and his thumb slip around in a circle.  “Are you really, really certain?”

Viren bites his lips, “Yes.  I’m very…” His eyes cross as Aaravos keeps up a gentle, teasing rhythm.  Then he suddenly stops and Viren sighs, “Oh. Um. Do that again?”

“Well.  Since you asked so nicely.”

Viren squirms under the attention, and a part of him is screaming, ‘BAD IDEA YOU PERVERTED OLD FOOL’ but it has been  _ years _ .  He rarely ever touches himself at this point, after a damn decade consumed with finding power.  And here he is, in the hands of one of the most powerful creatures he’s ever encountered. He gives up on resisting for the sake of resisting.  And slumps forward, wrapping his arms around Aaravos’ neck and resting his head on his shoulder. “I’m going to regret this in the morning,” he huffs.  “One wrong look from you, elf, and I swear…” Aaravos answers him with a lick to the ear. And with that, it’s all over.

Aaravos laughs.  “That was quick.”

“Shut up,” sighs Viren.  He is suddenly very, very tired.  He lets his defenses down enough to relax.

Aaravos surprises him.  “Now as I was saying. It’s best to proceed without so much tension.”  A wicker basket appears floating on the water beside them and he takes out a sponge and bathing lotions.  “I’ll do your back. And you can return the favor when,” he pointedly looks down. “You’re up to it.”

If Viren were more coherent, he’s sure he’d roll over and die from yet another embarrassment.  Instead, he leans against the edge of the pool and lets the elf maneuver him to his liking, savoring a rub down of his old, tired bones.  He mumbles, “I think I’m going to sleep.”

Aaravos kisses his neck, “Soon.”  He continues washing Viren with reverence and lets him rest. 

It’s hardly what he expected.  Viren wonders if he’ll wake up in a dungeon or back in the bed.  With the warm starlight hands his massaging lower back, he hardly cares.   For the moment.

 

* * *

 

Viren wakes up in the grass.  He’s face down and still near the candle-lined pool.  And there’s a very strange, very persistent pressure in his backside.  He scrambles to sit up but juts whatever is inside of him enough to move it.  And there’s a spark. And another. And another. And another. Viren spasms on the grass, not seeing the elf anywhere, but knowing he’s nearby.  “What did you? You inserted something…”

“It’s just a toy.  It’s harmless. In fact, as you’re finding out, it’s quite stimulating.”

Viren shakes and twists over to his side.  The rhythmic pulsing presses on, moving forward.  Viren freezes as suddenly horrible thought crosses his mind, “It’s not… you’re not iin there wiggling as a little bug are you?

Aaravos appears, laughing hard and rising out of the water like some mythical tempter.   He tosses back his hair, “I was seeing to myself. You could benefit from a little stretching.”  He’s not shy enough to cover himself, or his very proportional member. “Believe me, you’ll be thankful for a little warning.”

“Of which, I had none.”  Viren goes back to squirming in the grass.  He shuts his eyes tight. All the stimulation and he’s again getting hard again.  He takes himself in hand, “Just go away. I’ve been laughed at enough for one night.”

“I’m not laughing at you.  Teasing yes?” He blinks like a he wasn’t just barking like a madman.  “Now be still.”

“No.”  Says Viren while reaching back pulling free the odd mushroom-shaped probe.  He throws the thing into the pool. “You crossed a line. I want an apology.”

“I apologize.”

“A real one!”

“Really then,” smirks Aaravos.  “I apologize.”

Viren rolls his eyes, “You’re insufferable.  You violate me in my sleep and expect me just turn over for further intrusion.”

Aaravos laughs again, “This  _ must _ be some new human thing.  See, I would prefer to romance you properly.  This clinical application does not seem very appealing.  He kneels down near Viren’s feet and reaches out. He takes his right foot up and starts giving Viren a good hard rub.  “Be still. And let me take care of you. I would prefer it. We would both prefer it.”

Viren shudders when hands skim up to his ankles.  Everywhere he’s touched feels warm and tingly, just like in the bath.  But instead of feeling tired, he feels breathlessly excited. Aaravos takes his time working on one leg before moving to the next.  He doesn’t go any higher than mid-thigh but when he’s finished, he settles himself between Viren knees his own weighty-looking member seems uninterested in the proceedings.  But Viren feels like he could go off at any second. 

“Lie back.  Let me tend to you more deeply.”

Viren tenses, “I’m not ready.”

“No, I mean your heart.”  He places a big hand over Viren’s chest and closes his eyes.  “What scares you so, Viren? What’s holding you back from knowing all?  Show me.”

Viren follows suit and closes his eyes.  “I just want to go home…”

“Home?  Where is that?” 

Viren feels a rush of air, he knows he hasn’t opened his eyes or moved, but he feels transported.  He sees light and color. He hears all, and tastes… something sweet. Something old and familiar. 

Aaravos’ voice is a whisper in his ear, Viren feels one hand on his shoulder and the other still on his chest.  “Kiss me, Viren.”

“I can’t…”

“You have to let go of her…”

“Oh,” says Viren.  There’s an explosion of light and sound.  All his senses and flooded with a deluge of memories, but they’re all tainted with resentment and regret.  “I was never unfaithful. If she would come home now,” he says quietly. “I would be ready.”

_ “But that’s not yet possible.  See all, Viren.” _

 

* * *

 

_ Claudia does not visit her mother often.  She keeps close to her father and brother, her books and magical artifacts.  But when she does, she brings the news to Soren. _

_ Viren has spent years pretending nothing has changed in their family.   _

_ He hides and listens while the girl tells Soren everything. _

_ “That man was back there again.” _

_ “He’s our stepfather, Clauds.” _

_ “That Man.  That man thought I was going to hurt his precious baby turtles.  Like what kind of monster does he think I am!” _

_ “Sis, you strangled a unicorn.” _

_ “It lived!  And he had no way of knowing that!  Ugh!” _

_ “Calm down.  How’s mom doing?” _

_ “She’s… oh, Sor-bear.” _

_ “Is she okay?” _

_ “She’s trying to… you know.  With that man. Cause he wants a son of his own.” _

_ “Oh.  Maybe I could visit.  Teach our new little brother to play catch…” _

_ “No.  She rather we didn’t.  I mean. She didn’t say it outright.  But I’m not… I’m not going back there.  Not while that man is there.” _

_ “He’s not a bad guy, Claudia.” _

_ “And father is!?” _

_ “No… they’re just different.  Dad does what he has to keep everyone safe.  That’s all. There is no bad guy, Claudia. There’s no villain.” _

 

* * *

 

The memory fades.  And the hate and anger that Viren been holding on to feel like it’s boiling over.  The little thread of hope he had that he would somehow impress his former wife enough to bring her back, seems to snap.

“That’s it, my friend.”

Viren opens his eyes.  He wasn’t expecting to cry.  He lets out shuddering wail and leans into the warm circle of arms.  Aaravos pressed close to him, but there’s no sexual tension in the air.  He just cries and cries, emptying his heart and hopes. “If I can’t go home…”

“Think of your beloved children.  Not just your offspring, think of the kingdom.  It lives and breathes because of you, Viren. Your sacrifices.  Your struggles. The humans owe you fealty. You deserve to be held up high and venerated.  And with my help, you will take your rightful place.” He looks into Viren’s eyes and then presses a gentle kiss to his lips.  “See yourself with me at your side. See yourself, King of the Two Towers. King of all.” He kisses Viren again and pulls away smiling, “My king.”

Viren closes his eyes again.  Instead of darkness or overwhelming sparks, he feels like’s floating in the pool again.  The same gentle hands ease him down while lips nip and kiss his neck. He gasps, “I’m not… I’m not the king.”  He looks up, wondering if he’s under an enchantment that dulls his senses, but he doesn’t feel impaired. He feels light.  He kisses Aaravos back before repeating himself. “I’m not king.”

“Not yet.”

“But I will be.  And you are coming with me.  And we will show everyone.”

“Yes,” says Aaravos while pressing his body closer.  It’s impossible to ignore his sex now, and Viren is excited to have it slide along with his own.  Aaravos takes them both in hand and strokes. “Together we will punish the elves and dragons for their cruelty.  We will bring mankind into the light. I will be with you always. You will not die. You will not wither. You will be reborn.”

They move together, sliding and grinding.  It’s not what Viren expected and it feels so good.  He gasps, “We can… we will save them.”

“Yes, and those not strong enough…”

“We don’t want them anyway!”  He wraps his arms around Aaravos’s middle.  “We need only the strong. Only each other…”

“Yes, My king.”  Aaravos kisses him deeply.  He whispers in his ear, “I need you,  Viren. I need only you. I want you Viren.  I am yours.”

It’s everything Viren’s wanted to hear from a partner for so long.

He comes again with sweet words in his ears and the taste of the elf on his tongue, hands touching him everywhere.  It’s all probably lie. He’s not stupid enough to believe it.

“My friend, my King.  Viren, yes.” 

No, he thinks.  He doesn’t believe in anything but himself.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Cell Decay Draft](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1QCfiSeavLx5CcGGybcAPeymoN62d3Wbob9Ibgk7hB-A/edit?usp=sharing)
> 
> If anyone interested, you can read the chapters a few hours before I post them on ao3 and help me spot mistakes (cause I am bad bad bad at typing) I'll thank you in the next chapter for any corrections ^_^

**Author's Note:**

> You would think I’d work on one of my many many many unfinished works when I come back from hiatus. But nope. I got a worm in my ear thanks to Tumblr and a quick rewatch of the series. So I dedicate this hot mess to doktorgirlfriend. And meldoesthedraw.


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